


The Long Road Home

by ShadowHaloedAngel



Series: One Night [2]
Category: Carol (2015), The House with a Clock in its Walls (2018)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, F/F, Family, Home, Homecoming, Travel, minor references to military service and consequences, potentially minor references to abusive behaviour
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-17
Updated: 2019-07-17
Packaged: 2020-06-30 08:58:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19849834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadowHaloedAngel/pseuds/ShadowHaloedAngel
Summary: On the long bus trip back from Jersey to Michigan, Carol realises what it feels like to be going home.





	The Long Road Home

It was a long bus trip from New Jersey back to Michigan. Carol had considered driving, but she never really liked driving alone, and taking the bus gave her more time to think. Of course, there had always been the possibility that more time to think might perhaps not be a good idea. Fortunately going away from Rindy wasn’t aching as much as she had feared it might. Going home. 

Even just thinking it gave her a little thrill. She hadn’t really thought of it that way before at all, but when the word floated across her mind it somehow felt… right. 

When the dust had settled after the divorce, Carol had left it a decent interval and then moved in with Florence when she was absolutely sure the invitation was sincere. It had been… not entirely unexpected, perhaps, but a pleasant surprise all the same. 

She’d spent an entire week in New Jersey this time, a weekend visiting with Rindy under the agreement she and Harge had eventually come to, and a week going through things, packing up the old house, arranging for things to be sold on and taking her time to grieve what had been and say goodbye to it all.

Sorting through the detritus of her old life, she had come to realise there wasn’t a great deal she wanted to take with her. Her wardrobe, yes, and her makeup and jewellery, drawings Rindy had done and a photograph Therese had given her, some records… but moving in with another person removed such considerations as furniture, and there was nothing so precious that she absolutely had to make space for it. It was rather freeing, all things considered.

That life with Harge had been… well, she had loved him, once upon a time. Even now she wondered whether it had truly been love or whether she had deluded herself into believing she loved him, thinking it had to be true, following the script everyone else had set out for her. It was strange to realise the only thing she had to show for it, aside from being a few years older, aside from some emotional scars which everyone collected on the path through life, was Rindy. 

Really, it had all been worth it, even if only for her. 

As the bus continued to trundle on towards New Zebedee, Carol’s thoughts turned to what was waiting for her there. It’s strange to think of it as home, but as she considers the word again, turning it over and over in her mind, she gets a little thrill. It’s right, somehow, right in a way that it never was with Harge. That huge house had never felt like home. It had been beautiful, of course, it had been… exactly what it needed to be, the kind of status symbol which had complemented his perfect wife and his perfect child. She had tried so hard there over the years to make it home, but especially after things had begun to deteriorate between them and she had asked him to leave… it had felt like rattling around like peas in a jar. Even Florence- her train of thought momentarily derailed on a private little joke, musing about that little foreshadowing she could never have anticipated – hadn’t been enough to make it fit for her and Rindy. Selling it had always been the obvious consequence of the divorce really, and she’s happier not being responsible for the upkeep. She could never have afforded it on her own. 

It had been a stage, set for parties and entertainments, for being the perfect wife and mother and housekeeper, for supporting Harge in his endeavours. Those had never been as simple as they were supposed to be either. 

It wasn’t that the marriage itself had been one of convenience, though the longer she had stayed in it, the more Carol had come to realise that she was deluding herself, that this part of herself she was trying to deny was never going to shrink down or go away, eating away at her like a cancer. It was simply that… she had been approaching spinsterhood almost, at least by the standards of the society she had grown up in, and Harge was a veteran who never talked about what he’d seen, but who had been so very charming. She could still remember the first outburst where he had scared her. 

It wasn’t his fault, she knew that. The doctors had told them both so many times, assuring her that it wasn’t some kind of mental instability that might run in the family, instead that it was to do with his war service, but… perhaps it would be lying to say it hadn’t played a part in the way things had ended between them. She knew, she had always known that beneath it all he was a good man, but his control… sometimes that was what scared her. 

This is her first time returning home since she moved in with Florence at all, and thinking of it that way sends a little shiver of excitement through her she can’t explain, like butterflies in her stomach all over again. This feels right. For the first time in her life she understands what it’s like to have a home, a place to belong where you are truly always welcome. 

Finally the bus turned off the highway towards the town and Carol found she couldn’t help but smile. 

~

The sky was purple as Carol hurried up the hill, wondering why Florence had decided living at the top of it was such a good idea. There was a crackle in the air, and even though she'd barely begun her studies as a witch, it didn't take much to recognise there was a powerful storm coming. Despite that, her heart felt lighter than it had in months, perhaps even years, and she laughed out loud like a child as warm, fat drops of rain began to fall, painting the sidewalk beneath her feet dark as she turned up the path and ran to the door.

She didn't have to knock this time, didn't have to ring the bell and wait, she had her own key and she huddled under the porch, taking her time to draw it out of her pocket. There was a satisfaction to the way it fit, the way it turned and she could feel the click of the lock beneath her fingers as the door swung open.

Florence was waiting for her in the hall, as perfect as ever. She was regal and glorious, and Carol loved her fiercely. There was an undeniable fondness on her face as Carol stepped inside, wiping her feet on the doormat and grinning brightly.

"...And how was your trip?"

"It was wonderful, thank you. Rindy's looking well. She asked after you. She's still wearing that necklace you gave her."

Florence's smile took on a bittersweet tinge, and Carol closed the gap between them to kiss it from her lips, taking both her hands.

"...I'm glad."

"She wants to see you again. I said maybe we could arrange that for another time. Thank you."

"Of course. So is that what's got you looking so happy?"

There was a warmth in Florence's voice and affection in her eyes as she tilted her head, and Carol watched the way her eyes crinkled at the corners. Neither of them were as young as they had been once, and, as much as it surprised her to realise it, she wouldn't trade any of this to go back to her youth. It felt... it felt like her whole life had been leading her to this moment, leading her down this path to this woman at this time in this place, like she was finally where she was supposed to be.

Impulsively, she kissed Florence again and the other woman smiled.

"...Partially, I suppose? It's always good to see her, but sometimes it feels... complicated. I think it's working, though. I think we're doing the best we can for her, given the circumstances."

"You are," Florence's voice was gentle and firm all at once, and Carol squeezed her hands in wordless gratitude. Florence knew how much she had agonised over the decisions that had led them here, the decisions that had brought her away from the city and let Rindy go and live with Harge... really, the custody arrangement had ended up quite favourable, because although he loved Rindy and had the best of intentions, fighting for sole custody had been more about using her as a pawn in a desperate, ugly, last-ditch attempt to hold on to Carol. When he had finally realised that, no matter what, he wasn't going to be able to keep her, that the past was slipping through his fingers and the consequences of that course of action could be far more destructive than he had anticipated... he had relented, for the most part. For the most part, Carol had forgiven him.

"But no," Carol continued, the bright smile back on her face, "It's you, it's this house, it's this place... it's this life. It's so different from what I thought I wanted, so different from what... I expected. But I wouldn't change it for the world. I... don't want you to think I take it for granted. I don't. Far from it. But I do feel, finally, at peace. The kind of peace that comes from belonging somewhere. I belong here, with you. And I'm finally free of... all the mess that went before. Thank you for... letting me come home."

Florence's smile was slow and brilliant, real, like sunshine for the soul and her deep, deep blue eyes crinkled at the edges again in the way that made Carol's heart turn over as she gently tugged her close again.

"...In that case, love, welcome home."

The kiss was perfect. It was soft and sweet and warm and it lingered on her lips and Carol closed her eyes and focused on the way their hearts beat in perfect synchronicity, trying to hold on to this perfect moment, because you never knew when one might come in handy.


End file.
